


Of All Things, Can It Be Really

by zgory



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle Couple, F/F, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Resolved Sexual Tension, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22298551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zgory/pseuds/zgory
Summary: In the wake of Ragnarok, Sif reunites with the remaining Asgardians. Valkyrie makes her acquaintance and then some.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Sif (Marvel)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: MCU Space Ships 2019





	Of All Things, Can It Be Really

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkyRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyRose/gifts).



Valkyrie is alone on watch in the observation bay, gazing at the inky blackness of the universe crawl by with ever consistent streaks of light and swirls of color filling the spaces between the darkness. Taking a swig from one of the few remaining bottles of her Sakarrian stash, she doesn’t outwardly react as the communications system from rooms away crackles to life, the white noise amplified by the unnerving silence.

“This is Lady Sif of the Borr’s Honor requesting passage on your vessel. My craft is small, and I only need remain with you until your next planetary stop where I will then refuel.”

Curiosity piqued, Valkyrie makes her way to the room where all the communications equipment is kept. The Asgardian on duty stirs excitedly at the voice while Korg, who has been assigned radio duties for some reason, asks for more information. “As one of the elected leaders of the autonomous body of freed Sakaarian revolutionaries, I’d say come aboard, but I have to consult with my friend Thor, who’s the king of the other half of the ship. It’s only fair, though there’s an argument to be made about the inherent unfairness of hereditary monarchies, isn’t that right, Harald?”

Korg turns to the other Asgardian for his opinion, but he simply gapes like a fish brought to the surface. Valkyrie good naturedly rolls her eyes with a snort as she strolls into the room. Lightly smacking Korg in the shoulder, she gestures for him to move so she can respond on the radio. While of course the Grandmaster had installed the ship with all sorts of fancy and intricate looking systems for interstellar travel, both the video and holo screen had been damaged after a puzzlingly rowdy party had made itself into the room and so they were left with only audio.

“Where do you hail from and where are you headed, Lady Sif?”

“Asgard,” rasps the lady. “Excuse me, but did you just say King Thor?” Perhaps it’s the static of the device, but Valkyrie perceives a hint of urgency in her voice.

Korg manages to answer before she does. “Yes, this is the Statesman, home of the final throng of Asgardian refugees and the revolutionaries of Sakaar!”

The line is silent for so long that Valkyrie wonders if this Lady Sif has decided to try her luck with another ship without signing off until the radio comes to life again with a quieter request. “This is Lady Sif of Asgard, and I seek permission to board your craft and hold council with King Thor.”

“Bit presumptious, eh?” comments Korg as he ribs Harald who still stares at him flabbergasted.

And then to make things more interesting, Heimdall appears in the entryway with that all-knowing smile look of his. “I’d let her board if I were you.”

* * *

The ship that enters the hangar is indeed even smaller than the one they had taken from the Grandmaster. There to receive the Lady Sif are Valkyrie, Heimdall, and Thor who had been roused from his room and looked it. She knew he’d had many a sleepless night and was most likely awake when the news arrived. But the prospect of this new addition seemed to add a spark of mirth to his features.

With nary a sound, the doors to the small ship open, and a pale, dirty faced woman in scuffed Asgardian armor, a fur draped across her shoulders and a sword readily at her back emerges. Their eyes are the first to lock, and Valkyrie does not back down from the assessing gaze. Like someone sizing up her opponents in a worst-case scenario. Her initial stoic expression melts upon spotting both Heimdall and Thor and with a spring of urgency she’s greeting the former with a relieved smile.

“Heimdall, it is good to see you again.”

“Likewise, my lady.”

Turning to Thor, she bows with an arm braced diagonally against her chest. Her loose inky black braid slides forward at the move.

“My king,” she announces with the hint of a waver in her tone.

Thor jokingly grimaces at the gesture. “Don’t start with that.”

“If my king so commands,” she says with a small smile tugging at her lips.

With a shaky laugh, Thor wraps her up in a fierce hug which is returned with the same intensity. Something clicks in Valkyrie’s mind, and she tries not to give audience to the brief disappointment that flits through her chest. It is comforting moment in time only broken up when Lady Sif pulls away with an inquisitively concerned look on her face as she gestures at Thor's eyepatch.

“What in Ygadrasil’s name happened? Where are the others?”

Thor sighs and turns to Valkyrie. “How much alcohol do you have left?”

She jiggles the bottle at hand to show the half-empty amber contents within the clear glass . “Enough.”

* * *

Sif’s tale is brief enough. Odin had sent her on quests that increasingly sent her farther and farther away. She had been coming back from one such one when she’d heard about Asgard and rushed off to see for herself.

“Thor, what happened to the Allfather?”

Thor slumps a bit at the question and proceeds to catch her up on past events. What little cheer had been brought by her arrival is wiped away during his retelling. Lady Sif’s lips press together into a firm line that creates the illusion of a slash across her face and without any prompting Valkyrie passes along a bottle for her to partake. The woman is no lightweight and takes a fair gulp.

Upon hearing that Loki was Odin the whole time and realizing what that meant about her absence from Asgard, she leaps up from her seat with clenched fists, and Valkyrie appraises her with raised brows since she can relate. It’s about the same feeling she had the few times they’d stand next to each other before the Grandmaster.

“Where is the little snake?” hisses Sif through clenched teeth.

Thor just takes a deep breath and requests her to hear out the rest of the story.

She acquiesces and takes to pacing which is surely an improvement to storming from the room and hunting down Loki herself.

When Valkyrie’s role in the story comes up, Lady Sif halts and frowns upon hearing she had captured him but then that look is replaced with one of awe upon hearing who she is.

“But she doesn’t go in for hero worship much,” warns Thor when it seems like Lady Sif is about to drop to one knee and pledge her loyalty.

“I could do with some of the perks though,” Valkyrie comments as she pointedly takes a swig from a different bottle and prompts Thor to continue with his story.

He finishes his tale of what has happened to their people and their home and their current situation, and a mournful silence follows. Valkyrie leaves them to commemorate their mutual fallen friends.

* * *

Walking below in the cargo hold, Valkyrie is drawn to a series of grunts that echo around the corridor draws Valkyrie to a cargo room where she finds Lady Sif practicing with a sword. After her arrival, she had seen the other woman around the ship either with Thor or some other group of Asgardians desperate for outside news, but never alone. She watches the Lady Sif go through her movements and finds her form solid, the very picture of Asgardian training techniques. Her tight ponytail bouncing with her movements. She continues to observe her in silence before finally interrupting.

“We could use someone like you during training.”

Lady Sif does not startle at having been watched. “I was told the bulk of Asgardians on this ship are farmers and the like. Civilians. The whole of the army struck down by Hela.”

“Aye. And those farmers and the like managed to hold their own on the Bifrost. A great amount have expressed interest in learning more," replies Valkyrie as she takes to leaning against the entrance of the room. "Also, it’s awfully boring most days in case you haven’t noticed. Something like a routine to take their minds off things has been a comfort for them.”

Lady Sif merely hums in response before nodding her assent. Her hazel eyes gleam with an inner pride. “It would be an honor to train alongside someone such as—“

Valkyrie holds up a hand and cuts her off with a noise. “Thank you, but I’m nothing special now. Hearing Thor blunder through his fan boy speech was enough.”

“Surely you jest,” deadpans Lady Sif. At Valkyrie's unchanging expression, she presses forward. “Forgive me, but my whole life when I had to prove that a woman was just as capable in joining the front lines of battle, in the face of all my naysayers, the legendary Valkyries were who I could use as proof that things had not always been this way. You were the ideal to strive for and test myself against. Even Thor had no rebuttal in his more boor-headed days. So if anything, it would be a personal honor to help you in this.”

It’s hard to hear the words. It had been one thing when Thor had comically blustered his way through his admiration or when those who had seen her fight on the bridge offered their gratitude. The earnest shine in Lady Sif’s eyes and the strength of her tone warms her in an unexpected way. It is a personal thing she is sharing, and Valkyrie does not believe she deserves it. She has no doubt that a common rebuttal to their existence was that their ultimate failure and disappearance were why such institutions should not be repeated.

Clearing her throat, she responds, “You say you tested yourself against our standards. How about sparring against one?” She means to sound casual and gives the Lady Sif a meaningful look with an upwards tilt of her chin.

But Lady Sif’s eyes widen at the offer. “I-I’d be most h-honored.”

The current room is suitable to their needs, and Valkyrie strips down to match her opponent in her simple state. After setting base rules of going until first blood or yield, they commence.

Sif manages to block the first blow and avert the dagger in Valkyrie’s other hand. She spins out so as to have greater reach with her weapon, but Valkyrie easily leaps over that.

They continue in this way, ducking and weaving and swiping at each other. A game of chase with neither ever dominating for long. While she is agile, Sif is also willing to use brute force at times, suddenly tackling with the weight of her upper body or thrusting upwards with a palm strike. Valkyrie is glad they are in a cargo hold lest they damage the ship.

Eventually, Valkyrie sees her opening during a rare misstep and rolls forward. In the ensuing tangle of limbs that they create, Valkyrie manages to straddle and pin Sif's arms while pressing the flat of her blade across the other's collarbone. The body beneath her wiggles to attempt to dislodge her, but the hold is solid.

The victorious feeling that flares inside of her is a surprising thing, and one she has not felt in a long time. Or at least not while she has been so clear headed. With a hitch of her breath, Sif’s eyes widen, and this close Valkyrie can distinguish the flecks of green in her eyes. She is also very much aware of the way they both heavily breathe in unison as the sweat cools on their bodies. A flush warms her cheeks as well as Sif’s as if they have both been hit by the same realization.

And then a solitary clapping breaks the spell of solitude, and both Asgardians look up to spot Loki leaning against the door frame, looking more pleased than he has any right to be. “Well, well. What have we here? Sif, I’m almost offended you haven’t stopped by to say hello. Do years of friendship mean nothing?”

Sif’s jaw tightens as Valkyrie straightens up and offers her a hand. As Sif rises from the floor, a conflicted expression crosses her face before a look of forced indifference settles in. She fiddles with her vanbraces as a clear excuse to not avoid eye contact with Loki. “I heard of your acts on the Bifrost, and how you returned for our people. Whatever my initial feelings about your deceit, your recent actions will stay my hand though I also have no doubts about it somehow being all your fault in the first place.”

Loki’s smile stretches. “Why, Sif, I’m so honored.” And it's the way the draws out that last word that tells Valkyrie he did not just walk in on them.

Sif seems to come to the same conclusion because without warning she hurls her vanbrace at the opposite corner of the room followed by a quick, annoyed “Ow” as the real Loki shimmers into view with an irritated expression etched into the part of his face not obscured by the hand held up to where the object had struck him.

“Do not forget that I am not as susceptible to your tricks as Thor,” warns Sif as she gathers her things. Though she does grudgingly shove some kind of vial into his chest as she makes her way from the room.

Valkyrie fails to contain her mirth at the whole situation.

* * *

When it’s announced that they are nearing a planet where they will land to refuel and attempt to do some trade, a wave of excitement ripples throughout the Statesman. People are very eager for a change of scenery and to stretch their legs so to speak. It feels like progress in their journey. For her part, Valkyrie would very much like see if she can get a good drink. Her stock has taken somewhat of a hit and not just by her own doing.

She accomplishes her goal easily enough, and as the pallet of alcohol and other supplies is on its way to the ship, she spots Sif in the crowd and decides to make her way over.

“So what’s with you and Lackey?” she asks as she casually slots into step with the other woman.

Sif surprisingly skids on some unseen obstacle but quickly straightens out. She furiously blushes as she spares Valkyrie a quick sideways glance before purposefully looking forward. “Even with all the time in Valhalla would I be unable to fully answer that question.”

“So he’s always been like this?”

“And then some,” grouses Sif.

Valkyrie is not usually one to pick at a thread, but she is intrigued. The Odinson brothers are so peculiar when she compares them to the Allfather she had served and his bloodthirsty progeny. Whereas it seems like Hela had just sprung into existence fully formed, here she has a potential first-hand account with which to fill in the background gaps of the two royals. Especially since Heimdall remains ever so vague and tight lipped. "And has Thor always trusted him so?"

Here Sif's mouth turns downward as she appears to think about past events. "In our youth, he would have blindly followed Loki into a bilgesnipe mating pit. He's managed to learn some restraint by now at the very least." That it is not as much as Sif would prefer goes unsaid. "One learns that those two have always managed to exist in their own sphere. It's a lesson I wish I could have imparted on my past self if only to save on wasted breath."

"Were you and Thor..." she trails off meaningfully.

Sif stops in her tracks to throw her head back and bark out a laugh. The surrounding locals give the two wide berth at the sound, but Valkyrie finds it quite contagious. For some reason, this kindles a small spark in Valkyrie's chest.

* * *

It’s quiet in the observation bay as Valkyrie leans near the window and stares out into the stars. She slowly sips from one of her newly acquired bottles as she takes in the view. She will have enough to last until their arrival at Midgard.

Light but purposeful footsteps sound behind her, but she does not turn around. There are many restless souls aboard the ship, especially after a taste of solid ground. People take solace where they can.

The sound of Sif’s characteristically raspy voice sounds from behind. “I hear Thor refer to you as a Valkyrie and the others from Sakaar as a Scrapper, but what do you actually answer to.”

Valkyrie momentarily pauses in her drinking as Sif stands beside her with arms crossed against her chest. Leaning back on her arms, she eyes the other woman before gesturing for her to take a seat. Even in this, Sif holds herself stiffly, back ramrod straight as she kneels before tucking both legs beneath her on the metal grated floor.

“Valkyrie suits me fine,” she finally answers.

A small smile graces Sif’s face at the answer. “Were your forebears seers or just very determined about your purpose in life?”

Valkyrie can’t help but snort at that. “A lifetime ago I was known as Brunnhilde, but after everything…” the memories of her sisters in arms falling all around her flash across her mind’s eye. “I’ve spent a long time trying to run away from my past. If my name is the price to honor those I once fought alongside with, then so be it. But please,” here she turns to fully face the other woman, “do not call me Val. Korg’s somehow gotten it into his head that he can address me as such.” She directs a smile at Sif while offering her a drink and is heartened when the other woman takes it, their fingers briefly sliding across one another.

“Did you ever miss it? Asgard?”

The question catches her off guard, and she frowns at it. “You’re full of questions tonight,” jokes Valkyrie as she turns to look out the window. With a sigh she decides to answer. “At first…yes. But the weight of all that loss kept me from returning. How could I appear before Odin after such a failure? What was I without my sisters? I suppressed the feeling with drink and other vices and seemed to only exist in a hazy circle." She sighs and releases unrealized tension from between her shoulders. "And then one day, Thor happened.” But oh, how it had hurt to see those golden spires once again as she stood on the rainbow bridge. Literally standing at the edge of her home yet knowing she was never to set foot on its ground again. And then having to watch it be utterly decimated.

Sif slowly nods before responding. “When I was first sent away, a part of me was relieved and then immediately hated myself for that feeling. But with Thor gone for longer periods, and the fallout of the upheaval with the Dark Elves, there was an…unmooring inside of me. A desire to do more. Away from the golden realm." She looks out to the passing stars as if they held the answers she sought. "After my first few missions, the feeling of being away became preferable to staying. And maybe on some level I knew it was Loki all along, but…" She turns to look at Valkyrie. "The matter of Asgard's past. I do not know how to feel.” She shakes her head and looks down at her clenched fists, and it just now occurs to Valkyrie that she is wearing her hair down so that it follows the motion of her head in a soft sway. “It makes my past self feel like a fool for loving and clinging to and upholding such a lie even if as of late, I had been feeling…less than generous about Asgard. Once upon a time, the very idea of abandoning my home seemed such a traitorous concept but now…”

Valkyries reaches out her hands to cover Sif's and reassuringly squeezes in what she hopes comes across as a comforting gesture. “Asgard is a people,” she states. “As Thor likes to remind us all, we can rebuild. Make something better. Something that is ours.”

Sif looks up at her at this. Her dark hair is a stark contrasts against her pale face, and Valkyrie wants so badly to tuck one of the errant waves behind her ear. For her part, Sif’s eyes seem to be drinking her in as well. She worries her bottom lip as her eyes drift down to Valkyrie’s own. As if of the same mind, they begin to lean in and –

The blare of an alarm shatters the silence, and the two warriors uncharacteristically flinch away from each other. Quick to leap to their feet, the pair meet eyes again and are off to discover the source.

* * *

“I need you and Sif to evacuate with this first group,” states Thor with a heavy gravity to his words. The situation is dire with Asgardians and Sakaarian revolutionaries alike hurrying to pack what they can and crowding the levels that lead to the scant few escape crafts.

“Like Hel I will,” grits Valkyrie at the idea while Sif also visibly ruffles at the suggestion. “And leave you alone to face the Mad Titan!?”

“I won’t be alone,” argues Thor as he scrubs a hand over his remaining eye and gestures at both Heimdall and Loki.

Sif steps forward to argue her point. “Thor, I’ve been sent away once before. Do not do demand that of me again.”

“We cannot all escape,” he continues to press.”Those who can be evacuated will need a leader.”

“And that is you,” insists Valkyrie as she grinds a fist into the makeshift table they’ve all surrounded. “Why are they even here? The majority of the Statesman are civilians, and we have nothing left of value worth plundering.”

“He wasn’t named the Mad Titan for his flawless logic,” jeers Loki from his position.

“You were once his ally,” points out Sif. “What could he possibly be thinking?”

“If I knew such things, we wouldn’t be standing around arguing about best courses of action now would we,” bites back Loki in a sharp tone.

Sif’s nostrils flare, but both Valkyrie’s hand on her shoulder, and Thor’s warning, “Brother” keep things from escalating between the two.

Thor once again pins the two women with a pleading gaze, all the more impressive with his singular eye. “I won’t command you because we all know that wouldn’t even work. For Asgard. Or what remains of it.” She has never heard him like this. Desperate. Grasping at optimism. It does not suit him.

Their staring match doesn’t last long before Valkyrie snarls in frustration. “If you die, I’ll never forgive you."

* * *

The cloak of fear hangs steadily over what’s left of the Asgardians. What Hela could not break, Thanos has shredded in the name of balance. Valkyrie has been unable to contact Thor and fears the worst but refuses to give voice to it. They are almost upon a jumping point that will bring them to the edge of Midgard's branch of the galaxy. While not an end to their cyclical nightmare, it is something to grasp onto.

Sif slumps into a boneless heap in the accompanying pilot seat of their small craft. Dried blood still dots her pale, dirtied face and a sluggish wound on her shoulder continues oozing through the hasty bandages applied. Despite the swamp of shit that is their current situation, her presence is a pinprick of light in the gathering darkness.Their eyes connect, and Sif's mouth pulls into a semblance of a grin.

Valkyrie is mid sigh when a startled cry disrupts that. Swiveling around, she spots a panicked Asgardian gesturing in shock to an empty spot next to them. The disheveled crowd turns as one in question, and her brows draw together at the sight. The question on her lips dies though as another Asgardian, a theater actor as she recalls, fades to dust before her eyes. Shock floods her system, and her mouth gapes open at the sight.

“What the fu-“

All around, cries of distress pick up as her people literally disintegrate. She is vaguely aware of a panicked transmission coming from Korg’s ship that is no doubt experiencing the same incident. She has no idea what to do. There is no one to throw a dagger at. No foe to bring a sword down on. There is no doubt that this is somehow linked with Thanos and whatever he sought on the Statesman, but there is no way to currently reach him and demand he reverse this unnatural event.

The hand on her shoulder forces her to swivel back in a flurry, and Sif still sits next to her but with a more pinched expression on her face. The horrible realization strikes Valkyrie as sure as one of Thor’s lightning blasts. She’s grasping Sif’s face between her hands before she even realizes it.

“What’s wrong?!”

Sif struggles to articulate what is plaguing them. She gives Valkyrie her most mournful look and leans in as if to tell her what mysterious condition ails them.

What follows is the taste of ash on her lips, and it is the only thing to remember her by before Valkyrie is alone at the front of the ship.

* * *

Establishing themselves on Midgard proves less difficult than had ever been discussed. Granted, an unmitigated intergalactic crisis had helped their cause. It is at least a worthy distraction.

Thor had been right. Their people need a leader and with their king absent, they all turn to her. As if she was every triumphant story ever told instead of the defeated figure who had also lost so much in that final shuttle. At least the work at hand keeps the pain away.

When Thor finally returns to them, he is alone. He is sparse on the details, only murmuring about fault and proper aim. Korg triggers his ire when using Thanos’ name, and a manic spark ripples through Thor’s form as he solemnly declares right there and then that no one is to use the Mad Titan’s name in his presence. He then sets to helping with the construction of buildings, and she leaves him to his coping.

Both Heimdall and Loki slaughtered. Sif dusted away. Half of the handful of their population slaughtered and then that remaining half vanished into non-existence. And now a non-communicative Thor.

She does not know how she will weather this storm.

* * *

The first time Thor gruffly asks for some spirts, she acquiesces. She has not been in the mood to drink as much so there is still plenty left. She joins him, and it’s the first time since Sakaar that she's had so much. And when she wakes up the next day, face down on Thor's living room floor with Korg toeing at her form, she knows it will also be the last.

The next time he asks, she makes a crack about his tolerance only for him to gruffly reply, “Well, seeing as I’m trying to escape this present reality, yes, that would be the goal.”

His admission stuns her enough for him to make off with more than what she would have offered. She rushes out after him, but he’s already imbibed it all.

She’s unable to find support from anyone else in confronting him. The other Asgardians do not want to deny their king this indulgence, and the freed Sakaarrian revolutionaries don’t think it’s their place to intervene. “Everyone’s got their own coping mechanism,” says Korg when she’d approached him.

After a few months peppered with increasingly embarrassing blackouts and erratic thunderstorms, she tries to seriously broach the topic with him.

“I don’t plan on quitting any time soon,” he nearly spits back at her in his current stupor.

She stays her hand at the barb but not her tongue. “Then at least keep it confined so as to not crumble the last remnant of our people’s will. The last thing they need is to see their king stumbling around, nearly blind from drink, pissing his reign away.”

Thor melts and stumbles backwards from the reproach and lands on a couch where he stays, staring blankly at the ceiling. “The last thing our people need is me,” he moans in a low voice.

The fight leaves her at his maudlin mood. She does not know how to handle him when he becomes like this. He is the opposite of the determined soul she had first met. Watching him like this makes her even less inclined to ever touch a bottle.

She leaves him to his musings but decides that if he is to continue drinking then it will be the weaker Midgardian ale rather than anything of substance from off planet.

* * *

For all he had spoken assuredly about his Midgardian allies, she almost hates them for their infrequent visits. As if Thor is too much of an emotional burden to bother with. They do not even try to keep them in the loop, claiming that New Asgard has enough on its plate.

Curiously, one of the few to visit is a sorcerer by the name of Wong, someone Thor does not even know. He speaks cryptically of them needing to be ready when the time comes and then cautiously asking if he can get a discount at the gift shop.

* * *

Ever since the raccoon and Bruce had arrived to talk Thor into their quest, Valkyrie knew that this was the time for them to prepare. For what, she couldn't be sure, but it will most likely be a battle of some sort.

Amazingly, an armorer’s apprentice had survived and shared his skills and when put to the task, performed above and beyond. Both men and women outfitted in the armor of old. The Sakaarrian revolutionaries assembling their own weapons and affixing Asgardian cloths and crests and such to their armor or limbs. All their numbers barely past 200, and yet the sight fills Valkyrie’s body with something resembling hope. For all her years of life, this recent measly span had made her wonder if she could feel that again. There are moments when all she can taste is that lingering touch of ash on her lips, but this is not one of those.

One afternoon, among the busy hustle of people training and checking their weapons, a joyous shout alerts everyone to a change.

Up on the hill is a large gathering of people who were surely not there just moments before. But they are not just any group of people. All of those who vanished in the final shuttle five years ago are currently streaming out of the barn where they had housed the craft that brought them to Midgard.

The little flickering flame that has kept her going these past years flares at the sight of all these people who have just popped back into existence. She can barely believe her eyes. The group above finally seems to notice them below, and soon enough they all joyously meet in the middle. She's right in the throng, desperately searching for that familiar dark head. Reunions are happening all around, and waves of pure joy surge throughout the crowd. And then Valkyrie sees her. Her voice catches in her throat but when Sif's eyes land on her, there is no need for words. They rush at one another, and Valkyrie scoops her into a crushing hug that is returned with equal vigor. Valkyrie hopes the embrace leaves bruises if only to prove that this is really happening. They hold each other as if letting go will result in another vanishing. Valkyrie grasps the nape of Sif's neck and inhales deeply, relishing the smells of dirt and sweat that easily overwhelm the memory of ash.

When they separate, they speak over each other and stammer around what they want to say all the while smiling gleefully at the other. Valkyrie cups Sif's face, and the other woman utterly beams at her.

And then the list of strange occurrences continues in the form of a golden, sparking circle that appears in the field. It seems to lead from a dark building rather than New Asgard, and out walks Wong the sorcerer with a Pegasus.

“It is almost time,” he ominously pronounces as he gestures between the winged horse and Valkyrie with a knowing look.

Valkyrie’s smile turns into something a bit more vicious. This time, they will not be taken by surprise.

* * *

Fighting alongside Sif is one of the greatest boons the Norns have given her. The way they move in battle is as if they have always done so, and it sends a thrill through Valkyrie. Her new horse feels it too as the mare gives a mighty kick to those who would dare approach. At some point, Sif leaps on the back, clutching tightly to Valkyrie, and the both of them are airborne. The others' limbs wrap knowingly around Valkyrie, and they expertly dispatch of Thanos’ army in the sky with ease. Valkyrie cannot help the roar of pleasure she releases and pleasures in Sif echoing it.

On the ground, they protect each other’s backs in seemingly coordinated fashion. They whirl and parry and cut down swaths of the enemy. It's a continuation of their cat and mouse game, but this time they are both predators.

At one point, while splattered in enemy blood, Sif throws up her shield and blocks an incoming projectile meant for Valkyrie. Heart hammering in her chest as she looks at this woman before her and her blood sings from the battle around them, Valkyrie will not deny her feelings anymore, timing be damned. Let them have these few seconds for they may not have anymore together. Surging forward, she tugs Sif forward with an arm snaked around her waist and fits their mouths together in a glorious kiss. Sif hums her pleasure and deepens it, hands tangling in her hair and for an infinite second, nothing else exists.

Then a nearby explosion rouses them to their surroundings and with a heated exchange, they get back to business. She swears to the roots of her soul that there will be a continuation.

* * *

"The people need a king," comments Valkyrie as she and Sif stand alongside Thor on the cliffside. Arms entwined around each other, they take in the ocean before them.

Looking back at her, a proud smile stretches across his face. It is something that has been absent from his expression these five years. "No, they already have one."

Valkyrie bursts into soft laughter. Good to know he still has his sense of humor. Though for some reason he continues to look at her very seriously while Sif goes still at her side. Realization sets in as she looks back and forth between them. "Wait, you're being serious?"

Thor solemnly nods. "You've been here for them in ways I've failed to be. A true leader. It's who you are."

Sif's hand tightens around hers, and Valkyrie finds it's not as frightening a prospect as it could be. Eventually, she nods her assent, mind whirling at the possibilities of some of the changes they can begin to implement. And what a wonderful concept that is, the idea of them making changes together.

Thor holds out his hand, and she firmly shakes it in agreement. Her throat catches though at the thought of him leaving. Absent as he was, Thor was still a steady presence. "Where will you go?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I do have a ride," he gestures at the Guardians' ship parked on a nearby hill, and the silhouette of the raccoon gesturing to hurry it up. Thor just waves in that forced oblivious way of his before facing the pair again. Clasping a hand to their respective shoulders, he bids them good fortune, and they say goodbye again. Sif gives him a tight squeeze and has him swear to not be gone too long. And then, he is gone.

Sif's arm slides around her waist and idly traces her hip before leaning into the curve of her neck. "So what next, your majesty?" she murmurs with a smile.

Valkyrie huffs at the new title, knowing she'll have to get used to it. Lightly thumbing patterns into her wrist, she replies, "I'm not sure yet, your highness, but we'll come up with something."

The look on Sif's face is worth it, and with a laugh the two lazily kiss in the sun, wind idly mingling their stray hairs together.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I certainly enjoyed writing it.


End file.
